


Thrown Off Course

by justanothersong



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Fluff, Mildly Dubious Consent, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Past Reader/Others, Reader-Insert, Schmoop, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8085673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothersong/pseuds/justanothersong
Summary: It was clear he was working hard at maintaining his composure, and though you wanted to help him by keeping your distance, you couldn’t deny that the feel of his arm at your waist and his free hand in yours was comforting you better than anything else had ever done during a heat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title may change. I'm not exactly married to it at the moment.

It started on a surprisingly ordinary afternoon. 

The day to day at Stark Industries was never smooth-sailing, even on the best days, but the early autumn cool had brought with it a calm to the purchasing department where you worked. Logistics costs always dropped as the summer ended and you were looking at a budget surplus for the first time in months. Even better, you’d scouted a new supplier for high capacity diodes that not only made the product locally but through an eco-friendly process; you knew Mr. Stark would be pleased.

You hadn’t expected to ever meet Tony Stark when you took the job in purchasing, coming off a too-long stint working in the same capacity at a small firm with an extraordinarily low glass ceiling, particularly for Omegas like yourself. You were surprised to learn that Tony insisted on approving every new component himself, much to his charming CEO’s chagrin. He’d cleared the diodes via email, but still wanted hard copies of the specs and a sample to peruse before the order was made.

You were on your way to the elevator, paperwork and sample in hand, when the first inklings of your oncoming heat began. You hadn’t even made it halfway down the corridor when you felt insatiably thirsty and had to stop at a nearby water cooler. After the fourth refill on your little paper cup and a noticeable increase in your body temperature, you realized.

“Shit,” you muttered, crumpling the paper cup and tossing it into a nearby wastebasket. You had wanted to be there when the first diode order arrived; the company had promised they would arrive within a day or two of placing the order, and if Tony approved the sample today, they’d be in before the end of the week.

But you hadn’t had a real heat in at least eight months, and there was no way this one would last less than a full week. 

 

You sighed. Being an Omega could suck, to put it bluntly. Sure, there were parts of it that you loved; the idea that there might be someone out there for you, a perfect Alpha mate, was extremely appealing. Your own parents had simply been passing by one another when they realized and practically bonded on the spot. 

But the heats -- god, what a pain in the ass. A week or more of constant sweat and sexual frustration, your body crying out for the mate that you didn’t have. Forced seclusion for your own safety, away from any knothead Alphas who viewed any fertile Omega as fair game and away from your own temptations to bed any appealing partner who glanced your way. 

It always put you behind in your work, and then would come the lectures from your family about how it was time you started looking to settle down again, with a nice Alpha, or even a Beta if they struck your fancy.

All and all, your heats often found you wishing you had been born a Beta, and wouldn’t have to deal with any of it.

 

You pressed the button for the elevator, already planning the rest of your day in the back of your mind. You would have to send an email to HR and then tell your direct supervisor, Jack; your co-worker Michael would have to pick up the slack while you were gone, so you’d need to make sure he had all of the appropriate paperwork for the rest of the week. He was an Omega too, so he’d probably scent it on you as soon as you walked back into the office. 

There’s no way you could take the subway home; you’d have to call for a heat-specific taxi, or maybe try the new Omega-centered rideshare program to get back to your apartment. You hoped you had enough groceries to last you.

The elevator doors opened and you stepped quickly inside, nodding at the sole occupant and going immediately for the touchpad beside the button console. To get to the upper floors, where Tony kept his office and private labs and he and his superhero buddies palled around, you needed special security clearance that require a thumbprint scan.

You had been kind of proud when you’d been cleared, only weeks after starting with the company.

“Ma’am?” a polite voice interrupted, and you glanced up as the elevator doors began to close. “You won’t need to bother. I’ve got clearance for all floors.”

You offered a smile and a nod, surprised that you hadn’t realized it was Steve Rogers standing in the elevator as you had entered. Even if he wasn’t something of a celebrity, the much lauded and recently returned to the land of the living Captain America, his imposing figure and handsome face would be recognizable enough. You’d only met him once before, four months back during a similar elevator ride, that time heading down to the lobby.

“Thank you, Captain Rogers,” you said, hoping you weren’t putting off too much scent as of yet. The Avengers team was, not surprisingly, chock full of Alphas, including the Captain; even if you hadn’t had a heat starting, your body would probably have started putting off a scent once you encountered his Alpha pheromones. It would only be worse with your cycle kicking into high gear.

“Please, ma’am, call me Steve,” he told you, flashing that charming smile of his. “I’m not too big on the formalities when I’m not in uniform.”

“Then I have to insist you not call me ‘ma’am’,” you replied with a laugh, doing your best not to sound flirtatious. It was difficult, to say the least; even if you weren’t an Omega, you were still human, and Steve was a very handsome, very attractive man. 

He smiled in response and nodded, answering you with your name in renewed greeting. You tried not to look too surprised; you would never have guessed he even knew it.

Steve cleared his throat. “Bringing some paperwork up to Tony?” he asked, making pleasant conversation.

“Mmmhmm,” you replied, too distracted to elaborate. Just a brief moment in the enclosed space of elevator had your head swimming. The scent coming off of Steve was damn near intoxicating; it was clean and fresh, like newly-washed laundry hanging on a clothesline in a soft summer breeze or a cool stream of wild water, with undercurrents of citrus and the green scent of the deep woods. 

You were so lost in the scent that you hadn’t even noticed the elevator stop, or Steve calling your name, until you felt a large warm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, and when you looked up, he drew in a sharp breath.

You weren’t sure what it was he was seeing, but you had to wonder if it was anything like the view you were being treated to. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out on the Captain’s forehead and his lips were plush and pink, like he’d been biting them; his pupils were so blown that you barely saw the sliver of blue that was left of the iris.

“You’re in heat,” he gritted out, biting his lip again. You didn’t respond, just pulled in another deep breath, wanting to press your face against his chest and just draw in breath after breath of his scent. 

“Uh, Steve?” a voice interrupted, and you cast only a short glance at the elevator doors, to where Clint Barton stood, eyes flicking back and forth between you and the Captain. Clint was a Beta, but you knew the elevator must be saturated in scent by now, from both you and Steve; there was no way he didn’t notice.

Steve took the folder and pouch full of diode samples from your hands and pressed them into Clint’s chest, with a quick mumble that he should bring them to Tony, before stabbing the ‘Door Close’ button on the elevator with his index finger. His eyes never left yours.

“Tony has safe rooms,” he told you as the elevator started its ascent. He cleared his throat and pulled his gaze from you, hands fisted at his sides. “There’s no way you’ll make it home with your heat this far gone. It’ll be better if you stay here.”

“M’sorry,” you muttered, leaning against the elevator wall. “It never comes on this fast, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Steve gave you a bashful smile, and you had to grip the side-rail hard to keep yourself smiling.

“Don’t apologize,” he told you, and reached with one hand to wipe the sweat from his face. It only managed to tousle his blonde hair, make him look all the more appealing. “I know how it goes. Ruts aren’t any more controllable. Hell, the last time I ran into you I was already halfway gone with…” He trailed off, suddenly sheepish as he realized what he was saying.

You offered a commiserating smile and nodded. The elevator seemed to be going slower somehow, almost at a crawl; surely you should have been at the safe room floor by now? Too much time in close quarters with a virile Alpha, especially one as handsome as Steve, one who, you had to admit, you’d had a bit of a crush on since first seeing his image in a history book years and years ago, was making your inner Omega voice started whispering things to you that became harder and harder to ignore.

He was rutting when you last saw him, it told you. You were in close quarters with a rutting Alpha and what happened? You had that mini-heat. That little three-day hell that kept you indoors for the long weekend, biting your lip and trying to get yourself off with no satisfaction because it was him that did it, him that set you off, and only he could have abated it.

It was him. He was your Alpha. He was your mate.

You shook your head, trying to fight your own thoughts. “Sorry,” you mumbled again, realizing that he was standing a little closer now but trying to pretend he wasn’t.

“God, you smell amazing,” Steve mumbled, biting his lip again. “Like honey, and ginger. And cinnamon. Jesus, I bet you taste so…” He took a step back, eyes widening. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry… I never get like this, I never… I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head again. “S’not your fault,” you told him, leaning against the cool metal wall of the elevator in hopes to glean some comfort from your spiking temperature.

“I should have better control,” Steve told you. He took a deep breath, seemingly trying to clear his mind, but your mingling scents had so filled the small elevator that he received a lungful of it and bodily shuddered in response. When the elevator door finally opened, you heard him mutter a strained “Thank Christ” beneath his breath before stepping out and gesturing for you to do the same.

He seemed careful to stay a few feet away from you as you walked, though when the haze of your heat made you stumble, he was quickly at your side, a stabilizing hand at your hip and an arm offered in support.

“No one without full security clearance can get to this floor,” Steve told you, clearing his throat. It was clear he was working hard at maintaining his composure, and though you wanted to help him by keeping your distance, you couldn’t deny that the feel of his arm at your waist and his free hand in yours was comforting you better than anything else had ever done during a heat. “Tony has instructions with all of the HR people to call him or Pepper if someone needs to come up. You’ll be safe here, for as long as you need.”

“Not many workplaces are this kind to Omegas,” you told him softly, feeling grateful that you’d found such a progressive company, and that it had been Steve that came across you in the elevator. If nothing else, it gave you something to think about and the memory of his alluring scent to carry you through what you feared would be a long, miserable heat.

“Here we are,” Steve told you quietly, stopping at a door not far down the corridor. He opened the door and said,“Should have everything you need in there. Just ask JARVIS to keep the door locked and you can adjust air temperature and everything the same way. I’ll make sure Tony knows you’re here.”

You peeked inside, surprised to see what looked more or less like a small apartment; everything was pristine, as though it had just been waiting for a guest’s arrival. You took a step inside, noting that the air was already blessedly cool, and turned back to face Steve, who was still hovering in the doorway.

“Thank you for all of your help, Captain Rogers,” you said, the distance from him allowing you a moment to compose yourself.

“Steve,” he reminded, with a small, roguish smile. It sent fireworks alight inside you, the flames of your heat licking at your skin from the inside out. You felt yourself flush and knew he must have sensed the sudden arousal in you, his eyes darkening impossibly further.

He licked his lips.

“I should go,” he told you quietly.

You nodded. “Yes,” you agreed. “Just… before… if I could…”

You could hardly believe yourself, how quickly you stepped forward. The way you stood up on your tiptoes, even in heels, to reach him. The way you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, taking a long, deep breath of his scent. Just a little, that’s all you wanted; something to focus on, keep you sane for the next few days.

Steve groaned deep in his throat at your action and it was all you could do not to drag him inside with you.

You pulled away glassy-eyed and embarrassed. “Sorry,” you muttered, for what seemed like the dozenth time in just a few short minutes together. You closed the door quickly and muttered a short directive to the building’s artificial intelligence system, asking that it be kept locked until you asked for it to open.

“Of course,” JARVIS replied politely. “Please enjoy your stay.”

You gave a short, humorless laugh and leaned your back against the door, wondering how you were going to last the next few days alone.

On the other side, Steve pressed his forehead against the wall, thinking much the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve went immediately to the training center on the private residential floors of the building after leaving you in the safe room. His nerves were alight, his body flooding with energy and adrenaline in response to your scent, and he needed to burn some of it off to begin thinking clearly again. 

The first punching bag lasted approximately seven minutes; after that, he was able to rein himself in a little and not outright destroy the replacement out of sheer frustration. Tony was growing increasingly aggravated with the amount of sand and sawdust hitting the lacquered training room floors, and Steve never was able to sweep it up completely.

His Alpha status had almost always been a source of frustration for Steve Rogers. The only time it hadn’t been an issue had been in his earliest days, when his illnesses had been at the forefront and the only thought had been keeping him alive and keeping him comfortable for as long as possible. No one really expected him to survive his childhood, and even when he began approaching his preteen years, the assumption remained that he was most likely a Beta, or, barring that, an Omega.

Slight of build and small of stature, it seemed even more likely as he got older that he would be an Omega. While it wasn’t a hard and fast rule, there was a prevalent school of thought that male Omegas would always be small and slim. It wasn’t true, of course, and Steve knew that -- the green grocer on the corner was a tank of a man and a happily mated Omega at that -- but he still had to put up with a parade of parents and their Alpha children, watching him curiously and waiting to see if he would present.

For his own part, Steve didn’t care one bit. He had been happy enough for each day that he could take a deep breath and crawl out of bed in the morning. When his first rut hit, full of sweats and fevers, he just assumed he was ill again and took to his bed, hoping to wait it out without need of a doctor’s intervention. When the reality of the situation became apparent, he was wholly embarrassed. He knew what others would think: a small, scrappy Alpha would never find a mate. He held his head high, and did his best to ignore it.

He had always been glad that he met Peggy, a Beta and his first love, before the serum. The spark had already been there, before his body had changed and it seemed every Beta or Omega within winking distance were throwing themselves at him. Steve had made up his mind even then that he wouldn’t be some knothead Alpha, slave to some prehistoric biological impulse that would lead him to bed any and every Omega that smiled his way.

He thought he was beyond all of that.

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been around Omegas before, even Omegas in their heat. He’d never reacted this way, never felt his heart pounding in his chest, body aching to be touched. He had been away from you, away from your scent, for a good long while and was still at half-mast like some horny teenager, unable to control their own body. It was driving him crazy.

He pummelled the bag in front of him, punch after punch, strike after strike, mentally berating himself with each thrown fist. He was an adult, he tried to tell himself. He shouldn’t be acting like this. He knew better than to think something as natural as a heat was any indication that you wanted anything to do with him.

But that unevolved, lizard part of his brain kept whispering to him, telling him things he did his damnedest to ignore. Reminding him that this rut, the one he could feel coming on even now, had only been set off by being in close quarters with you. That he’d never experienced that before, never had his own rut thrown off cycle and brought to bear simply by taking in the scent of an unmated Omega. Because he knew that too, just from your scent, something tantalizing and sweet among the delicious honey and cinnamon and ginger tones of your scent, telling him that you had no mate and no bond.

You were alone, just like him. Maybe you were lonely too.

One more sharp jab and the punching bag went flying off the chain, splitting open and spilling its gritty contents all over the floor. Steve swore under his breath, hands fisted on his hips as he glared at the mess, taking a moment to catch his breath before wiping away the sweat on his brow with the hem of his t-shirt. He had just turned to look for the pushbroom he always kept on hand when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hate to tell you this, pal,” Bucky called, jogging into the training room with the collar of his sleeveless t-shirt held over his nose. “But you stink somethin’ fierce.”

Steve only grunted in response, locating his broom propped up in the corner and getting to work on the mess he had made. The last thing he needed was any teasing from Bucky, even though he knew it wasn’t meant to be a bit of fun. Bucky was a Beta and didn’t have to deal with any of this shit, something that only served to irritate Steve, even in the earliest stages of his rut. His biology could be a major pain in the ass at times, and his best friend couldn’t even commiserate.

“Hey, seriously,” Bucky said, placing a gleaming silver hand on Steve’s shoulder and stilling him as he swept. “You okay, punk? Little early for you, ain’t it?”

Steve nodded, taking a deep shuddering breath to calm himself. “Omega,” he said simply, shaking his head. “In the elevator.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow. “Some Omega got you all hot and bothered, just from sharing an elevator ride?” he asked. “What the hell you two get up to in there?”

Having pushed the litter of sawdust into a neat pile in the corner, Steve abandoned the broom against the wall and turned to Bucky with a glare. Picking at the athletic tape on his knuckles, he shook his head.

“She’s in heat,” he explained with a low exhale. “Just had to get’er up to those safe rooms Tony put in. It was just… she…” Steve stopped and shook his head again, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment.

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Seriously?” he asked. He’d never known Steve to react to an Omega like this before, not even one in heat; the other man’s rut was coming on so fast that even a Beta like Bucky could scent it on him.

“Don’t,” Steve warned, shaking his head. He knew exactly what Bucky was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. He’d heard the old wives tales about perfectly compatible mates ever since he was young, the idea that a single perfect match for every Omega and Alpha existed somewhere out in the world and it only remained for them to find each other. Steve figured it was a load of crap; he’d found a perfect Beta in his youth and if things had worked out properly, he knew they would have had a good life together.

“Look, I don’t buy into that whole soulmate crap, you know that,” Bucky responded, shaking his head. “But the whole… biology thing. That still stands, right? When Thor’s girl hit her heat last month, she didn’t look at anybody in a room full of Alphas but him, and they weren’t even bonded.”

“So?” Steve responded, fully aware that he came off sounding a bit like a petulant child and not really caring.

Bucky snorted, still used to Steve’s rut-attitude, even after so many years. “So maybe when this all blows over, you go talk to the girl. Get to know her. Maybe something clicks.”

Steve’s face went pink and he mumbled something down to his shoes. When Bucky stared, waiting for him to repeat, Steve sighed in annoyance.

“I already her, okay?” he snapped, frowning. He paused a moment and then said your name, watching as Bucky’s brows arched impossibly higher.

“No shit?” he asked. “The girl you’ve been eyein’ since your last rut hit got you set off like this and you’re standing here, talking to me instead?”

Steve groaned, heading towards the door. “It’s not like either one of us are in a state to grab a cup of coffee, or make major life-changing decisions, Buck. I’m going to bed.”

“It’s not even six o’clock yet,” Bucky pointed out, watching as the other man left.

Steve stopped when he reached the door, sighing with a slump of his shoulders. He didn’t turn around, but called out, “Hey, Bucky…?”

He didn’t even have to ask.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” the other man grumbled. “I’ll take babysitting duty, but this is the last time. You talk to the dame, get to know her. Then you can maybe have some better company when you’re ruttin’ like a horny teenager.”

 

Bucky had started playing caretaker for Steve when they were still children, keeping him safe during illness and rut alike. They’d both heard too many horror stories over the years, about Alphas on a rutting rampage, grabbing at any Omega in the vicinity and trying to force their way upon them. Steve had been terrified, even when he was slight of frame and short of breath, that he would lose himself to the rut and hurt someone. Bucky would sit vigil, and make sure that he never left their small apartment until it was over.

It made for a few awkward moments here and there, but Steve felt relieved knowing his stalwart friend was standing guard.

Even after the serum, when Steve’s size and strength presented a real issue on such occasions, Bucky stood watch whenever he was needed. It seemed he would be taking up that same duty again, even on so unexpected an occasion.

Bucky watched television in the living area of Steve’s suite in the Tower, while Steve paced in his bedroom. He ordered a pizza and had Clint run it up, even knocked on the bedroom door to offer Steve a slice, but Steve declined. Bucky listened as Steve took a few rounds with the smaller punching bag he kept hanging in the corner of his room for just such occasions, and turned up the television volume to an obnoxious level when he heard the telltale grunts and groans coming from behind the bedroom door. 

When Steve seemed to have quieted, Bucky turned it back down, and before long, he drifted off to sleep on the couch.

At a little past one in the morning, Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, his chest tight and constricted in a way that drew far too near to what he remembered of his asthma attacks a lifetime ago. He had tried to sleep but he was restless, and pacing the room was making him only more agitated.

A shower didn’t help.

Neither did any attempts to manually relieve a little attention.

Steve was suffocating, he was frustrated, and he was going out of his mind. All he wanted to do was go to you, to hold you, to breathe you in and let your scent wash over him. Calm him. Bring him back to himself.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, he thought. It wouldn’t hurt to knock on your door, just ask, please, if he could hold you, just for a moment. That was all he needed. Just a brief moment together, maybe, maybe he could touch you, just a second of contact, skin to skin, a touch of your scent to carry back with him. Just… anything. Anything that could make this night a little less hellish.

He opened his bedroom door and peeked out, spotting Bucky asleep on the couch. There weren’t many who could sneak past the formidable Winter Soldier without notice, but Steve knew that his own suite at the Tower was one of the few places where Bucky could relax well enough to sleep deeply and without fear; he’d never notice if Steve snuck out, just for a moment or two. 

Bucky didn’t even stir when the door closed behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

You’d spent the better part of an hour laying on your back on the ceramic tiled floor of the little kitchenette, hoping the combined efforts of the cool tile and the blasting air conditioning would help to soothe the furnace burning within you. The moon was shining outside the kitchen window and you knew it was late, though the hours had burned one right into another as you tried and failed to calm your raging heat.

You’d lost your shoes almost as soon as you closed the door, your stockings quick to follow. The way they clung to your legs felt cloying, and you’d torn them in trying to get them off. In a fit of frustrating and sweat-slick annoyance, you had tugged so hard at your blouse that the little pearl buttons that held it closed had popped off the clattered on the hardwood floors. You didn’t take it off, just left it open, leaving you lying there in a wrinkled grey skirt, open blouse, and constricting lace bra.

You could almost scream with the aggravation of it all.

The last hour had been the worst, your temperature climbing and the constant arousal coming to bear. Even the shift of fabric against your skin could send you into a frenzy; the bed, with its soft cotton sheets, only seemed to make it worse. So you spread out on the tile floor, hair damp with sweat and body aching for touch, wishing it would all end.

All you could think about was Steve. He had smelled heavenly in the enclosed space of the elevator, almost intoxicating. It had been so clean and welcoming; you felt a sinking in the pit of your stomach just thinking it, but it had almost… been like home. You needed it, needed to drench yourself in it, just for a moment. You felt like an addict craving a hit, needing just a second or two to find some peace and center yourself in the green, fresh scent of the Alpha. It was all you could think about, even as you lay there, near exhausted from your heat and head full of longing and need.

“Please,” you whispered into the empty darkness of the room. “Please. Please.” You whimpered the words, repeating them over and over like a mantra, unable to stop yourself. Some small part of you had begun to believe that your heat would never abate without feeling the solace of his scent again, if only for a brief moment.

You thought you had imagined it, when the first knock came to the door. It was so quiet that it couldn’t have been real, a figment of an overactive imagination, you were certain. But then it came again, with an even softer, plaintive voicing of your name and you knew, gentle as the sound was, that it was him. That he had come to you. The Alpha you needed -- your Alpha.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were on your feet and moving towards the door, breathlessly asking JARVIS to unlock it. The AI provided a gentle reminder that it wasn’t the best idea to do so, but threw the locks at your insistence. Opening the door to the sound of another whisper of your name, you could have cried for the sudden relief you felt, suddenly awash in that cool fresh scent you had been longing for.

Steve was the perfect picture of a rutting Alpha, standing there with wide, blown pupils, sweat-slicked skin, nearly panting with the exertion of holding himself back. He wore only a pair of soft grey sleep pants and leaned one elbow on the doorframe, pressing his head against his forearm to steady himself. He licked his lips, full and red and bitten from frustration, and gave you a shaky smile.

“I’m sorry to… disturb you,” he panted out, pausing to take in a deep, full breath that almost made you shudder to see. He was breathing you in, you knew that, taking in your scent as much as you were availing yourself of his. It sent sparks alight on your skin, prickly and hot but so, so good.

You gave a weak smile in return. “S’ok,” you said quietly. “Not like I was doing anything anyway.”

He cracked a smile. “Yeah, me either,” he agreed with a soft chuckle. 

You bit your lip, eyes tracking a single rivulet of sweat slipping down from his brow, tracing the path of his jaw before falling to his chest. You took a deep breath, pulling his scent into your lungs, and stepped back a pace, opening the door wider beside you.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked, voice completely innocent in spite of the way your eyes roamed him, drinking in his presence.

He nodded quickly and then paused, hand on the door handle. “Maybe I shouldn’t,” he relented. “Maybe… maybe I should never have come up here. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I should go.”

“Steve?” you asked, voice small. “I would… if you wanted to come in, I wouldn’t mind,” you went on, and bit your lip again, feeling it plump beneath your teeth. “I could use the company, really…. Please?”

It was the pique to your voice that did it, the upward lilt of the question falling from the tip of your tongue that sent him over the edge. The door slammed behind him and you were barely able to pull in a breath before Steve’s arms were around you, lifting you up and holding you against the now closed door. 

Steve pressed his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder, breathing in deep; you couldn’t help the shudder that ran through your body when you felt a gentle swipe of his tongue against your skin. You pushed your fingers through his sweat-damp hair, tugging on it gently and reveling in the way it made him groan your name.

“I should go,” he all but whispered. “God… I should go, but I don’t want to, I don’t want to…”

“Then stay,” you said, nearly breathless. You pulled his mouth from your throat and onto yours, revelling in the taste of your own skin on his lips. “Stay with me,” you whined between kisses, the touch of his tongue to yours somehow electric, calling back those sparks all over your body and drawing goosebumps out from your skin. “Stay with me, Steve, make me feel good, baby, please…!”

 

Steve helped you to your feet, forcing himself to take his hands away from your body, if only for a moment. He insisted you walk under your own power, that you make this decision for the both of you, still indomitable and true even in the witless states the both of you were in. He was panting, breathing heavily as he watched you walk, slipping your open blouse from your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor behind you as padded barefoot into the bedroom.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back with both hands planted on the mattress, and cocked your head to the side in silent question.

Steve let his eyes rove over your frame, the way your chest heaved just gently with your breaths, wet bruises already forming along your shoulder and the column of your throat from his all too brief ministrations against the door, settling at the fullness of your breasts in the little lace bra you were suddenly glad to have chosen that day, before drifting down your skirt and legs

He raised a hand to his lips absently, the dewy warmth that had gathered on your thighs spread across his fingers from where he had gripped you. You you saw the pink flash of his tongue lick out to taste it, you let out an uncontrolled moan that he immediately echoed.

That was all it took.

Your back hit the mattress with near enough force to knock the breath out of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when you were surrounded by the forest-citrus scent of this almost wild Alpha. He gripped your hips and yanked your ass to the edge of the bed, pushing up your skirt with one hand while ripping the soft pair of cotton panties from your body with the other. 

There was no teasing, no pretense; Steve just spread your thighs and pushed his tongue into your folds with a needy, fevered groan. You couldn’t help yourself, crying out, back arching at his touch, not realizing you had titled your hips away from his searching mouth. He gripped you tighter, pulling you back with a growl, muttering a low, snarling “Mine” against you before delving in deep once again.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t even breathe. You threaded your hands through his hair, twisting and pulling with every new swipe of his tongue and rasp of his teeth. Steve was grunting low in his throat, lapping up all you had to offer, fingers gripping tight enough into your thighs to leave bruises to be discovered in the morning light. He felt like a man possessed, drunk first on the scent of you and then the taste, sweet as honey and pleasantly spiced against his tongue.

Your orgasm swept through you like the crack of a whip, sudden and sharp and reverberating all through your body. Steve’s name was on your lips, your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, even as he refused to let up, licking and sucking and outright fucking you with his tongue to get more, another taste, another sip of the sweetness you had to offer. 

He only let up when you began to whimper, body gone sensitive and aching, the sudden hollow empty feeling at your core driving you to beg before more. Steve lapped at your inner thighs, dragging his teeth against your sensitive flesh before pulling away. You shuddered at the loss of his touch.

“Steve?” you asked, feeling boneless and wanton, barely able to lift your head and watching him as he moved.

“Just a minute, honey,” he said softly, stripping off his sleep pants with a sigh.

You sat up, slipping your bra away and tossing it aside before shimmying out of your skirt and moving up to lay fully on the bed, feeling his gaze as you moved.

“So beautiful,” Steve said, his voice almost awed in tone. He said your name, squeezing his eyes shut, a questioning note to his speech; he was asking again, paining him as it did to stop, to wait, wanting to be certain that you wanted this as badly as he did.

“Steve… Alpha, please,” you said, hand delving to touch yourself, feeling the slickness spread by his tongue, across your thighs and deep within your folds. “Need you.”

You closed your eyes when you felt the mattress dip beneath his weight, the spark of apprehension in your gut eclipsed by the deep sense of want. You’d never been with an Alpha, never wanted one before. Never wanted anyone this badly. Even with the smallest tick of fear settled in your heart, even your heat-clouded mind knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. Something about Steve calmed it away; something about him told you that you were never safer than you were now, alone and exposed, and at his mercy.

Steve started low, brushing his lips from your ankles to your calved and back to your thighs, pausing a moment to laps at the slick coating your skin and press a kiss to your hip. He nuzzled at the softness of your stomach, all of those wasted hours in the gym seeming pointless and silly, feeling the way he practically purred against your soft belly. You never could achieve those rock-hard abs that everyone sought after, and now you didn’t care in the slightest, feeling a rush of heat at how pleased he was with you -- a foreign sensibility to be sure, but one you didn’t seem to mind in the least.

He mouthed at your breasts, lavishing attention across their gentle swell and rolling his tongue around each peaked nipple. You were always hypersensitive during a heat and this time was no different, the soft touch of his lips and tongue driving you wild, your breath catching in your throat with each gentle touch. You could feel him now, his hardness pressed against your thigh, leaking wetness to mingle with your own and you shivered. Alphas were big, they were always big, or so you had been told; feeling him now made the aching hollow inside you seem to crave his fullness even more.

“Want you,” you whispered as Steve reached your throat, adding more to the collection there of lovebites and bruises. “Please, Steve, god, I need you, need to feel you…”

“Gonna give you everything, doll,” Steve whispered back, pressing you back against the pillows. “Everything you want. Whatever you need.”

You couldn’t help the way your lips quivered as he pushed inside, tiny gasps of breathless pleasure breaking free from your chest as you felt the impossible fullness of him sheathed inside of you. The emptiness was gone, the gnawing ache of incompletion a muted memory of the past; you were full, and whole, and nothing in the world could ever feel this perfect. And then he started to move.

The first time he drew back his hips, you nearly cried out in frustration; you needed him, needed to feel full and whole and he was leaving, he was pulling away. Your walls tightened around him on instinct, dragging a guttural, pleased moan from Steve’s lips in spite of it; when he thrust back against you, you echoed his cry, stars bursting behind your eyes as those sparks of pleasure returned. You couldn’t understand how you had gone through life without this, without him, without feeling this everyday, always.

Steve seemed to feel the same, whispering such wonderful things to you as his slow, hesitant thrusting gave way to a steady, almost punishing pace. How he needed you. How he needed this. He could never live without it, not now, not after getting a taste of you. You felt amazing, he told you; you felt like home.

You had a brief moment of panic as you felt his knot begin to swell. He was so big already, you couldn’t take anymore, you were sure of it; but when it dragged inside you, pressing against every oversensitive nerve and drawing uncontrolled shivering across your body, you realized how bad you wanted it, how bad you needed it.

The pleading mantra you had whispered alone on the kitchen floor had returned but now you spoke it directly into his ear, the repetition of his name and “please” and “more” and “knot” had him shaking as badly as you were. You both cried out when it caught, your bodies tied together in a perfect embrace, the feeling of completion deep within you so overwhelming as to draw tear from your eyes. You dragged your fingers down his strong back, feeling the reverberation of shivers through the muscle, and you were gone, floating somewhere far away, feeling only lightness and pleasure and the constant play of his lips against yours.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be two chapters. Then three. Now I'm thinking five. I'm a mess, I know.

The awkwardness set in just as the euphoria faded out. You felt warm and pleasantly achey, but also tired and keenly aware that you barely knew the man to whom you would be physically tied for the foreseeable future. 

Steve pushed his arm beneath your lower back and held you close to his chest, saying a quiet, “Hold on for a second, honey.” 

You tightened your arms around his shoulders, letting out a short gasp when he rolled the two of you so that he lay flat on his back; the gentle tug between you as he moved provided more of a pleasurable burn than any pain, leaving you panting a little as Steve steepled his legs and you moved slowly, realizing he was giving you a more comfortable place to rest. You bent your own knees so that you could lean back against his strong thighs without any discomfort, and let out a small sigh of contentment when the movement had been completed.

Head back against the pillows, Steve gave you a crooked, grin. “Hi,” he said quietly.

You snorted. “Hi yourself,” you told him, reaching out to search among the tangled bedclothes for something to cover yourself with. With your mind a little clearer, you were suddenly aware that your entire body was on display and, silly though it might have seemed given the situation, you felt a sudden sense of modesty. Steve gripped your hips and lifted you both up from the mattress the slightest bit so you could pull the flat sheet out from under him and you smiled in thanks, drawing it up to cover your exposed body and tucking it just beneath your arms, over your waist and where your bodies tied to lay against his abdomen, just below his navel.

“I know this probably seems stupid, but…” you started.

Steve shook his head, fingertips just gently dancing across your thighs beneath the sheet. “I understand,” he told you. “You’ve got every right to be comfortable.”

You stared at each other in a long, empty silence before you gave a nervous laugh at the craziness of the situation; Steve joined you in it, barking out a short chuckle that reverberated through your joined bodies and made you laugh even harder.

“Do you think it’s like this for everyone?” he ask, lazy smile still on his face.

“Probably about as awkward,” you agreed with a short nod. “I mean, I never asked my parents about it… some things, you just don’t want to know. But I bet anybody who… I mean, like this… we barely know each other…!”

You flushed bright red at the thought of it; you hadn’t thought anything beyond getting him in your door and getting your hands on him. The reality of what you had done was settling in and you were more than a little embarrassed, wondering on the repercussions of your actions.

“Hey,” Steve said quietly, and you felt those soothing fingertips against your skin again. “Take a couple deep breaths, okay? It’s gonna be alright.”

You did as instructed and felt yourself immediately begin to calm, the clean citrus and cool water tones of his scent washing over you and drawing your worries away. You couldn’t remember when you’d felt this good, this peaceful. You gave him a tired smile in thanks.

“Tell me about your parents?” he asked, still trying to put you at ease. “Are they…?”

“Alpha and Omega, yes,” you agreed with a nod. “Yours?”

Steve shook his head. “Both Betas. I was kind of a surprise.”

You huffed a laugh. “I can imagine,” you told him, reaching beneath the sheet and finding his hands with your own, twining your fingers together. “Had you…?” you asked slowly, uncertainty. “I mean, before this, had you ever…?”

Steve shook his head again. “No I’d never… I’d never been mated,” he told you. He had been with other women, but only Betas; he’d loved Peggy, but a true mating wouldn’t have been possible. “You haven’t either,” he said quietly, a statement and not a question. You flushed; you had forgotten that your scent would be a witness to that, screaming out without your permission that you were an untouched Omega, never mated, never knotted, no bond to speak of.

“I didn’t think I ever would,” you responded mildly. “It just wasn’t something that I… that I wanted for myself. My mom, though,” you paused and laughed a little. “My mom said that if it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen, no matter what I think I want. I guess she would know.”

Steve arched an eyebrow. “How’s that?” he asked.

“My parents met at a Vietnam War protest in 1972,” you told him, remembering fondly all the times your mother had repeated the tale. First mating stories were huge fodder for romance novels and epic films; people who had one of particular curiosity were always badgered into telling the story. “Mom was a sixteen year old protester and Dad was in the National Guard unit sent to keep them in line. You can imagine how that played out.”

Steve chuckled; he couldn’t help it. “Oh wow,” he said, shaking his head against the pillow. “Right out in public?”

“My Uncle Nick says they practically had to hose them down to separate them long enough to get behind closed doors,” you told him dryly. “There’s a mental image you want when you’re 12 and edging into your first heat.”

He couldn’t help himself, still laughing. “Oh, honey, I don’t envy you that, not at all,” he told you, mirth shining in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back.

It was impossible not to be open and intimate with your bodies joined in so intimate a manner, with having shared the experience you had shared. You talked until you were able to separate, and you learned far more about Steve Rogers than you ever thought you’d know. Even then, he simply eased you down beside him, pulling you close so that you could rest your head on his chest as you both fell into a deep, sated slumber.

 

You woke in the early afternoon, the burning want inside of you drawing beads of sweat to your skin even as you drew in a deep breath, immersing yourself in the scent of the Alpha laying beside you. The spike in your temperature and the whimpers you had been making in your sleep had already roused him, and Steve was nuzzling behind your ear and pressing sleepy kisses to wake you. He whispered your name, and you shivered.

“Please,” you told him breathlessly, back arching as one of his strong hands slipped down your body to settle between your thighs, pressing gently at first before delving deeper, his movements quickening as you rolled your hips to match pace.

“Don’t worry,” he said, voice thick with want. “I’m here. Gonna take care of you.”

The time passed seamlessly, hour into hour, day into day. Each time you’d feel a spike of need, Steve was there, ready and more than willing to carry you through the next frantic bout of heat. Even when his own need grew stronger, his rut taking hold, there was a tenderness to his touch and a sweetness to his words that left you never feeling taken or used. He brought you bottled water from the kitchen and even carried you to the large shower in the bathroom, washing away the sweat and remnants of sex when you both began to feel tired and dirty. He even changed the sheets on the bed when you had commented that they could use it.

When the need would ebb and your bodies remained bound, you would talk. You learned far more about the Alpha sharing your bed than you ever thought you would.

You were in his lap again, braced against his knees; you had found it one of the more comfortable positions to rest in during the aftermath.

“I never thought I’d have a mate,” Steve confessed quietly, hands gently squeezing your thighs. He was always touching you, fingers tracing paths across your skin only to be chased again later with his lips. You found yourself enjoying the touch, particularly in these quiet moments.

“Because you had someone else,” you filled in knowingly, a gentle smile on your lips.

Steve sighed and nodded. “She… was a Beta,” he explained. “She’s gone now. It’s been a while, but I… I still didn’t think, you know.”

You nodded and heaved a sigh of your own, reaching down to cover his hands with your own. You’d foregone any modesty at this point, finding no reason to cover yourself; if nothing else, Steve had seen you at your worst and most debauched. You didn’t have anything to hide.

“It feels… disloyal,” you said quietly. “When you loved someone that much. To ever move on, maybe that was one thing, but a mate… it feels like an insult, to what you had.”

Steve’s blue eyes widened. “You too?” he asked, and you nodded.

“I was married, right out of college,” you explained. “He got sick. It was… several years ago now.”

“Beta?” Steve asked curiously. He knew you had never been mated by an Alpha, after all.

You shook your head. “Omega, actually. Simon never wanted a mate, was on suppressants a long time before I even met him. We clicked.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Steve said quietly. You could see the wheels turning in his head now, thinking perhaps on what this might mean to you, if it was all too soon, if you weren’t ready. If someone had asked you, just a week ago, you could have agreed with that sentiment; it was too soon, Simon still too much a part of your life even though he was years gone from it. But now? Now you didn’t know. There was a warmth in your belly when you regarded Steve, the sweetness of his touch, the earnestness of his expression when you had your little talks. He was open in a way you hadn’t expected, drawing the same out of you. It was like nothing you had ever experienced.

Your mother had told you that you would know, when it happened. When you met your mate, the one you were supposed to be with. You tried to ask what it would feel like, but she had only smiled and shook her head. It would be different for everyone, she told you, but you would know it when it happened. 

“I’m sorry for yours,” you told him, twining your fingers through his against your thighs. “You’ve been through so much, I can’t even imagine.”

Steve smiled at you then, soft and open and brilliantly beautiful, and you felt that warmth inside you begin to spread.

“It’s not so bad,” he told you softly. “Especially now.”


	5. Chapter 5

You couldn’t remember ever enjoying any intimate time with someone the way you were enjoying yourself with Steve. It wasn’t just the sex -- though loathe you were to admit it, that was pretty damn amazing -- but the way he spoke to you in the quiet moments, getting to know you and sharing parts of his own life in return.

“You know, I’ve seen almost all of your movies,” you commented quietly, as Steve peppered your bare shoulder with soft kisses.

“Mmm?” he responded mildly. You tilted your head, giving him better access as he drifted up your shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of your neck.

“Only movies my parents would agree on,” you confirmed, sighing softly and melting against him. “Momma wants romance and Dad wants his war movies… and the Captain America movies always had a romance or two.”

“Probably a lot more interesting than the real thing,” Steve said dryly, and gave a little nip to your earlobe that made you shiver. “I haven’t see any of them myself. Are they any good?”

“Oh, pretty formulaic,” you told him, closing your eyes as he continued his ministrations, mouthing at the tender skin just behind your ear. “M’favorite is the one with Judy Garland and… oh… Gene Kelly.”

Steve paused. “A musical?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed softly. “Yeah, a musical,” you agreed. “It’s called ‘The Heart and Soul of Soldier’. Gene Kelly is you, and Judy Garland plays Becky Barnes.”

“Becky?” Steve repeated, incredulous. “You don’t mean that she’s s’posed to be my girl?”

You nodded. “They make it like she’s your best friend, even as kids, and when you end up in the service, she sneaks in too, pretending to be her brother so she can follow you. There’s this great song she does, ‘Just to Be Near’, not a dry eye in the room. And of course when you -- when he finds her, she ends up dying in his arms on the battlefield.”

Steve sighed. “Are they all that sad?” he asked.

“Nah,” you said, shaking your head. “The ones from the 80’s are all explosions and sex.”

Steve laughed, ducking his head start dropping kisses along the column of your throat. “I think I like that better,” he mused softly, and you couldn’t help the girlish giggle it drew out of you. His hands drifted down to your hips and he rolled you onto your back, claiming your lips with his own for a deep, searing kiss; you responded in kind, whimpering just a little when he pulled away.

“Is this okay?” he asked, blue eyes searching yours. You knew what he was asking; your heat wasn’t over but it wasn’t spiking, and neither was his rut. It was a moment of calm for both of you, but Steve still wanted you, again, over and over, even when your biology wasn’t calling out for it. Even when his rut wasn’t driving him towards an unclaimed Omega, Steve wanted you.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, please…!”

Even without your heat spiking in need, Steve made your toes curl and your body tremble. You feel into a sated sleep, still wrapped in his arms, feeling a fluttery lightness inside.

 

Never usually one to take a risk, you found yourself trying new things with Steve without any care or concern. Often you would get anxious just to disrobe with someone new, but there was such warmth that came from Steve that you couldn’t help but feel comfortable, completely at ease.  
You noticed while his rut was beginning to creep up again that his nipples had pebbled and flushed dark, and it made you wonder if he’d be as sensitive as you’d get at times. It wasn’t anything you’d ever done before, not with any man that you’d been with, but the curiosity and a sudden surge of lust had you mouthing at him, first soft little kitten licks and when he started to whimper and moan, gentle scrapes of your teeth before pulling the hard little nub into your mouth and sucking hard.

Steve cried out, tangling his fingers in your hair, eyes squeezed shut tight and shivering, cursing with the pleasure when you moved to the other side. You braced one hand on his shoulder and snaked another between your bodies, stroking him even as you nipped and sucked at his chest. Your name fell from his lips, taut and sharp and pleading; your own arousal was burning deep within you, and you hadn’t even realized that you had begun rolling your hips and grinding down on his thigh as you straddled it, until he flexed the muscle against the core, drawing out from you a muted whimper.

Neither of you lasted long after that, tipping over the edge only seconds apart. You collapsed against his chest, feeling the motion of his panted breaths in the come down and echoing back the same.

He pushed sweat locks of hair out of his eyes and smiled down at you. “Well. That was new,” he said, chuckling softly.

“Good new, or bad new?” you asked.

Steve grinned. “Good new. Very, very good new.” His expression turned devilish and before you could even ask what he was thinking, you found yourself giggling in surprise as he suddenly heaved you onto your back on the mattress and loomed over you with a dangerous little smile playing across his features.

“What are you up to?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. He leaned down to kiss you, long and deep, and you could help the sigh that escaped you as you returned his affection. You would never tire of kissing Steve; you hoped you’d have many, many more chances to do so after all of this was over.

He quickly slid down your body, pulling your knees up over his shoulders.

“Been too long since I had a taste of you, honey,” he all but purred, and teasingly ran his tongue just up your seam. You gave a gasp of mixed pleasure and frustration and closed your eyes; it took little else to spur him on, and in an instant he had thrust his tongue inside you, moaning at the taste and lapping up everything you had to offer.

It was too much. It wasn’t enough. _This is it_ , you thought. _This is how I’m going to die_. A quivering mess of arousal, gripping at the bed sheets and begging Steve for more, more, more.

What a way to go.

You felt one of his strong hands cover your and you opened your eyes, watching as he lifted your hand to tangle in his hair. You could have died when his gaze met your, pupils fully blown and looking up at you from beneath thick, gorgeous lashes, the muscles of his jaw still working as he kept it up, licking and sucking and driving you crazy.

You gave a short tug of his locks when he gave a cursory little swipe against your clit and he moaned at the sensation, long and low and vibrating against you. You couldn’t stop yourself from tugging again and he moaned even louder, some garbled version of your name sown between grunts of “yes” and “fuck” and “more”.

He didn’t stop, not even when you were shaking and gasping his name and yanking at his hair hard enough to sting, just kept going, desperate for one more drop, one more shiver, until your vision went white and you fell back against the bed, sated and exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So maybe this goes to six chapters? This one's shorter. I don't know. I'm a mess.  
> It wasn't even supposed to be explicit, for god's sake. Help.


	6. Chapter 6

The room was golden with early morning light when you woke again, wrapped up in Steve’s arms and tangled in the bedclothes. Steve still slept, face pressed down into the crook of your neck and shoulder, availing himself of your scent even in his sleep. You felt warm but comfortably so, as though relaxed into a warm bath or wrapped up in blanket before a flickering fireplace. You couldn’t help yourself, reaching up with your free hand to thread your fingers through his hair. Even in his sleep it was clear that Steve liked it, nuzzling even closer against you and humming softly in contentment.

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You’d only heard horror stories -- Omegas finding themselves tied to Alphas they couldn’t stand, or Alphas who had no intention of making a life with the Omega they had mated, claiming them only to add another notch to their belt before moving on in search of another. Fairy tales just didn’t happen. Your parents, that was different; it was a different time, everything was life or death for them, of course they had seized upon the moment.

 

Your world was a little quieter. Things like this just didn’t happen.

 

“Am I dreaming?” Steve mumbled sleepily into your shoulder, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. If it was a dream, what a nice one it was; you thought you might like to keep it a little longer.

 

“I don’t think so,” you responded with a short yawn. “But maybe you better pinch yourself to make sure.” You should have expected the sudden pinch to your thigh, but it still made you yelp and shove at his shoulder with a laugh.

 

“Yourself!” you told him, laughing helplessly. “Pinch yourself, not me!”

Steve was wide awake now, and clearly feeling playful. “But it’s so much more fun when I get to touch you…” he replied, echoing your laughter and capping it off with a playful nip to your shoulder. They next thing you knew, you were squirming beneath him as he pinched, tickled, and kissed at every free stretch of your skin that he could reach, leaving you giggling madly even as you wriggled and rolled to get out of his reach.

 

You found yourself gasping to catch your breath with Steve hovering over you, grinning down with the brightest smile and something sparkling in his eyes that made your heart beat a little faster in your chest. He blinked and licked his lips, smile faltering just slightly, and sighed.

 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Steve said quietly, and your heart caught in your throat.

 

 _This is it_ , you thought. _This is where he tells me that he has a mate. That he has someone else. That he doesn’t want me, that it was just a mistake. This is where he breaks my heart._

 

“Oh… okay…” you said shakily, willing yourself not to cry. You didn’t want to be like this. You never wanted to be an Omega so desperate for an Alpha that a few days of good sex would leave you feeling so helplessly attached, but it seemed as though you couldn’t help yourself. 

 

Steve heaved a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked nervous, you thought, and how ridiculous was that, when you were the one about to be tossed aside?

 

“This isn’t…” he began, pausing and frowning a moment. “I didn’t…” he tried again.

 

You sighed. It was as painful to watch as it was to wait for the hammer to drop. You reached up and ran your fingertips along his arms and up to his shoulders in a soothing gesture.

 

“It’s okay,” you said weakly. “Just tell me.”

 

Steve sighed again and ducked his head, dropping a kiss to your bare shoulder before giving you another one of those smiles, shaking his head.

 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he told you. “That’s why I had to… after we met, that first time? In the lobby? I thought I was just out of my mind with a rut, that you couldn’t be this… So I asked around, figured out who you were and I’d been waiting, wanting to… but god I was just so nervous, I didn’t think you’d want…”

 

Your eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t really be saying what you thought he was saying, could he?

 

“Steve?” you pressed a little.

 

Steve groaned softly and pressed his face back into your shoulder. “I’ve been trying to find a way to run into you again and ask you out for months but I figured you wouldn’t be interested,” he told you, voice muffled against your skin.

 

You couldn’t help yourself: you laughed. You threw your head back against the pillow and laughed so deep and long as to leave you breathless, even as Steve perked his head up and stared at you first in puzzlement and then with growing embarrassment, face going faintly pink. It was too much, too heavy and too freeing at the same time, to tell him all that you head suddenly feared and then felt lifted away, so you did all you could think to do.

 

You reached for him, still smiling, and pulled him into a long, deep kiss.

 

You weren’t sure if it was relief or the euphoria of Steve’s confession that led you to allow him to move you this way, laying out out on your side on the bed and sidling up behind you, a firm hand at your thigh that drifted down to lift your knee as he pressed inside with a low, deep groan. There was something especially intimate to this, the heat of his chest draped across your back, the gently movement that had you rocking back against him each time he’d retreat; you’d never let anyone touch you like this, hold you like this, knowing what it could mean to someone of your status, and someone of his.

 

You knew from the pounding of the blood in your veins and the insatiable need burning through you that this was probably the last great crest of your heat, and Steve’s reaction made it clear that his rut was reaching its zenith as well. It had become difficult to find words when the fever had overtaken you again, simply reaching out for him across the bed and finding him willing and ready, eyes dark and glassy and sweat beaded on his brow. You were ruined now, you were sure of it; you’d never be able to get through another heat alone, not after this.

 

Steve Rogers had absolutely ruined you.

 

You’d tell him that too, when you could think beyond chasing the high of his scent and his touch, and form more words than ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘Steve’.

 

You kept bowing your head without even thinking, exposing the soft skin at the back of your neck to him, and Steve was luxuriating in the permissive gesture. He didn’t take beyond what was silently offered, simply laving his tongue across the sensitive skin there, dragging his teeth enough to make you shiver but not enough to leave a mark. The back of an Omega’s neck was where their scent glands were most sensitive, and the place where an Alpha would leave a mating mark: a claiming bite that would break the skin and scar over within a day, forever marking you as taken, as his. 

 

Just the thought of that was making you crazy. _He could take me_ , you kept thinking. _Steve could take me and make me his and I couldn’t stop him, I wouldn’t stop him._ Your breath was coming so fast that you thought you might pass out, panting and gasping at the feeling of him moving inside you and the thought of what he could do. 

 

And you wanted it. You wanted it so badly that you thought it might break you.

 

“Please!” you gasped out, ducking your head again, exposing that smooth, soft skin to him. Inviting. Beckoning.

 

Steve let out a strangled moan of your name, unable to stop himself from pressing his lips against you, drawing just gently against you, just enough to leave a small stain of pink.

 

“Please, please,” you kept muttering in an unconscious imitation of the words you had been chanting on the kitchen floor days ago, alone and needing him, begging him to come to you. You were begging again now, wanting to feel it, the sharpness of a bite and the knowledge that you’d be tied, forever. 

 

“God, I want…” Steve all but growled, taking your skin between his teeth but not biting down, just mouthing at it, holding it there, trying to stop himself from going too far.

 

“Yes!” you told him, feeling ecstatic and delirious, hyper-aware of your body and everywhere he touched you: his hand still hoisting your knee up to drive him deeper, the flat planes of his chest sticky with sweat and flush against your back, the gentle nibble of his teeth, and the wonderful, delicious pull and stretch of his knot as it began to grow.

 

“Want it,” you told him, voice hoarse from crying out. “Please, god, please, Steve, I want it, I want you, please, please please…”

 

He groaned, the hold of his mouth becoming just a little tighter, just a little sharper, as he was clearly fighting himself from doing what he really wanted, from clamping down hard and staking his claim.

 

“Please,” you gasped out in a whisper, your body beginning to tremble at the last slow, hard drag of his knot against you as he began to catch in place. “Steve, please, take me, take me, make me yours…”

 

The noise that erupted from him was almost feral and you couldn’t help the cry that slipped from your lips when you felt his teeth sink into your skin. Your climax hit the moment you felt his bite, a thousand pinpricks of light and fire ripping through you and sending off in a wave of pleasure so great that you thought you could die happy then and there, gasping Steve’s name as his strong arms cradled you to his chest, rolling his hips to grind against the most intimate places inside of you.

 

When you came down again, you felt drowsy and drunk. Warm laughter bubbled out of your chest and Steve, still wrapped around you from behind, practically purred in response. He nuzzled at the mark that he made, lapping at it with a soothing tongue and murmuring sweet things into your skin.

 

“Perfect,” Steve mumbled. “So perfect. And mine.”

 

You smiled dreamily, pulling his hand from where it lay possessively across your belly and bringing it to your lips. You traded him a bite to the skin between his thumb and forefinger, brief and not enough to break the skin, but enough to stake your claim.

 

“Mine,” you agreed with a pleased sigh, and you felt his lips pull into a smile against your neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, an epilogue, THEN it will be done.


	7. Chapter 7

You took another day, even after your heat had ended. You needed it; you both did. You were tired and a little achy, still reeling from the turn things had taken. You had been expecting a few days of over-aroused misery on your own to fade off into the relief of normalcy, like always. You hadn’t thought even for a second that you’d find yourself mated and bonded.

When it came to the point that you couldn’t really rationalize staying any longer, both you and Steve found yourselves in a fit of inappropriate giggles; each time you were able to calm down, you’d meet his gaze across the room, collecting your clothing -- or what remained of it -- from around the room and falling into another fit of helpless laughter.

The place was a mess; you don’t even remember how or when you lost your blouse or your skirt, or where Steve’s shirt went. When you found your panties, torn to shreds and laying at the foot of the bed, you let out a small snort that attracted his attention, and as soon as his searching blue eyes met yours, there you both went again.

You laughed so hard that you collapsed, sitting on the floor with your legs folded under you, wearing a wrinkled grey skirt and crooked lace bra -- you had half-torn the hook and eye closure trying to get it off, apparently -- giggling madly with a pair of panties ripped almost in half in your hands. In half a second, Steve was there with you, laughing deeply and sinking down to the floor, his back against the foot of the bed and his thigh pressed against yours.

“Sorry,” he told you, taking the tattered garment from your hands. “I guess I got a little overzealous there for a minute.”

You grinned, remembering the look on his face when he rucked up your skirt and yanked the offending panties off of you, half-crazed and almost famished, and then he had put that mouth, those beautiful pink lips, right where you needed them most. A sudden flush overtook you at the mere thought and Steve’s eyes darkened, catching the change in your scent almost immediately.

“You start that again, honey, and we’re never getting out of here,” he warned, and licked his lips.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, the comfort of skin to skin contact enough to calm you for the the time being. You supposed Steve was in even more of a predicament than you were, when it came to leaving the safe room; after all, you may have been dealing with the semi-tattered remnants of your clothing, but at least you had all the bits and pieces. Steve had shown up at your door in a pair of sleep pants and nothing more.

You swallowed hard at the mental image that presented, forcing your thoughts to more practical matters.

“I like that,” you told him quietly. He shifted against the bed and slipped his arm over your shoulders and pulling you in closer to his chest.

“What’s that?” Steve asked curiously.

“‘Honey’,” you told him, smiling up at him. His face colored a little but he didn’t respond, giving you a somewhat sheepish smile. “I’m not usually one for pet names,” you went on, “But I kind of like that one. You’ve used it a lot the past few days.”

“Oh, I did, didn’t I?” Steve said, bright flush burning straight to the tips of his ears. “I hadn’t realized. I… I’m glad you like it.”

You gave him a puzzled smile. “You’re embarrassed,” you said quietly. “Why? I told you I liked it. It’s sweet, in its way. Maybe a little old fashioned but, like I said… What made you call me that?” Steve mumbled a reply, gaze averted, and when you answered him with a “Hmm?” he answered in a rush.

“You taste like honey,” he told you, and now it was your turn to blush.

Steve bit his lip and then pulled you in for a kiss, long and slow. It was a sweet, soft caress, a gentle press of lips before a soft, insistent slide into a deeper kiss that made you sigh, forgetting for a good long while that you had both been preparing to leave. When the two of you finally broke apart, Steve still held you close, a soft open expression on his face.

“We should probably go,” you told him, unable to keep yourself from smiling. “We have a lot of time for all of that, don’t we?”

The grin that broke out on his face was blinding. “We do, don’t we?” Steve agreed.

 

You found your blouse on the floor outside the bedroom. You’d forgotten you’d been so rough with it in in the throes of your heat, when you were still alone and burning up inside. The buttons, tiny little plastic pearls, were scattered all over the floor. You sighed and slipped it over your shoulders, fiddling with the fabric a long moment before you gave up and just tied it shut.

“I guess I’ll go for the Britney look,” you told Steve with half a smile. “At least until I can get something else to wear.”

“Britney?” Steve echoed, a bemused smile on his face.

“You know, Britney Spears?” you said, gesturing to the tied-off blouse. “‘Baby One More Time’?”

Steve shook his head. “I know who she is,” he agreed. “I met her at one of Tony’s parties last year. Sweet girl. A little hyper. But I’m not getting the reference.”

You closed your eyes and nodded, hands on your hips. “Of course you don’t,” you agreed with a chuckle. “We’ll have to work on your MTV viewage.”

Steve snorted, and you opened your eyes to him standing before you, hands going to your waist. “Like you said,” he told you, leaning down to steal a kiss. “We have all the time in the world.”

 

The ride down in the elevator was quiet. He hadn’t asked. You were waiting for it. The idea of going home, to your little apartment, was making you feel a little ill. The idea of being away from Steve for even a little while was making you feel panicky and restless. You knew how this worked: after a mating, especially if there was a bond, a claim, it was immediate. You were supposed to be together, after all this. But he hadn’t asked.

You could feel the bond, settled in the air between you. You were his now. There was no denying that, not that you’d ever want to. But if he didn’t want it…  
Steve cleared his throat. “I have a nice place here,” he said quietly. “Used to keep a place in Brooklyn but the back and forth at all hours could be a little much, so I moved into the Tower. It ain’t perfect -- we’d have the rest of the team in our hair all the time and sometimes, I’ll have to leave, but… I’d really like it if you’d move in with me.”

Even though you’d wanted him to say it, you were still surprised to hear it; there was something a little dreamy about all of this. He was perfect, so perfect. You felt completed, standing beside him, his hand in yours. That Steve could really want this as badly as you did? It was like a fantasy come to life.

He misunderstood your silence, his face falling for a moment before he hid it behind a mask so blank and so false you were shocked you never noticed that before, in magazine images and news reports. Steve was a master at hiding what he was feeling.

“Oh… oh, okay, I understand,” he said, nodding quickly. “I guess… I mean I knew it wasn’t the same anymore, I didn’t assume that you necessarily wanted to but I thought, you know, if you, maybe, could want to… but, I get it, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have expected…”

You’d been unable to find both of your shoes in the safe room, so you had to stand on tiptoes to reach him, kissing him soundly to stop his babbling and stop his brain from rattling on. You hoped he understood, that he could feel what you wanted to say in your kiss. You didn’t have to hope at all; he was grinning when you pulled away.

“My Alpha,” you told him. You didn’t even notice you were crying, your heart burning with so great a joy you thought it might burst.

“Mine,” Steve agreed with a pleased growl, and pulled you close against him.

You barely registered the elevator doors opening, or the building’s AI reminding gently that you had reached Captain Rogers’ floor until you noticed there were two men standing there, waiting for you both to notice.

“You didn’t really think you were sneakin’ past me, did you punk?” Bucky chimed in with a pleased grin, and Steve groaned, still holding your close as he pulled away to glare.

“Shoulda know you’d pull somethin’ like that, jerk,” Steve responded, shaking his head.

“Really, Spangles?” Tony snarked with a frown. “You finally get it into your head to find a mate, and you gotta take one of my best buyers? Now I lose her for a honeymoon on top of the week you two spent upstairs?”

You blushed to the roots of your hair, burying your face in Steve’s chest with a groan. “Mr. Stark, I appreciate the compliment but I’m pretty sure if violates all kind of HR rules to discuss my mate.”

“Yeah, Tony,” Steve echoed, a shade of protectiveness in his voice. “Don’t make my girl uncomfortable.” There was a tinge of Alpha authority in his tone and it made you shiver.

“Your girl, huh?” Bucky asked. You could hear the grin in his voice. “Well, welcome to the family, doll. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“Hey, I wanted to ask…” Tony started, but you looked up to see Bucky man-handling him away from the elevator doors.

“They just bonded, Stark, Christ on a crutch, give’em some space,” you could hear him scolding as they walked away. “You know this is an important time for them…”

Steve held your hand, guiding you out of the elevator. “I guess this is an important time for us,” he agreed, eyes never leaving yours, even as you walked alongside him.

“How’s that?” you asked, and gave a soft giggle as he twirled you like a dancer and pulled you close against him.

“Honey, this is the part,” he told you softly, breath barely above a whisper. “Where we fall in love.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him you were already completely head over heels; you just kissed him instead.


End file.
